Valeria by Kaitlin R. Branch Read Free Book Online Page A

“No,” she whispered. “Never.”
    He fought a triumphant smile. “And does a scientist ever draw a conclusion without experimentation?”
    “If the conclusion is obvious enough, yes. I mean, clearly if an unknown element floats in water I can conclude that its mass-to-volume ratio is sufficient to at least be less than that of water.”
    Mache snorted water through his nose and immediately spit it back out in a laugh. “Right,” he said, still laughing. “Do you have enough information to draw a conclusion yet?”
    Valeria was quiet. “No, I guess not,” she said. She looked up. “Will you help me?”
    Grinning, Mache held up his cup. “Here to serve, m’lady.”
    Valeria’s smile broke free as he beamed and she handed him a napkin. “You’ve got water on your face,” she said.
    “How rude of me,” he said, wiping himself off. “At least I showered before coming to the table. Not a total oaf.”
    “Not at all an oaf,” she corrected, relaxing. “At least, I don’t think so.”
    “Good. Let’s keep it that way.” Mache said, and handed the napkin back.
    * * * *
    Mache took his time. More than wanting to prove to her men were not out to drag her down, he hated to disappoint or spook Valeria because though she didn’t often get frightened, when she did it was deep and pervading. He wasn’t sure whom she was more afraid of, though, him or herself.
    Going slow was difficult. Though most times their interactions were much the same, discussions of flying, lessons, her inventions, who would cook what, it was two weeks before he could kiss her for longer than fifteen seconds. Often he wondered if she’d been mentally counting. When he asked, she laughed and asked why he would think that, nearly proving it. He kept cool and pointed out it was acceptable to kiss for longer in private, which they most certainly were.
    It helped that she was a fascinating person to kiss. Sometimes she opened deep, sometimes only barely. Sometimes she reacted without reservation. Sometimes he could barely get a hint of warmth off of her, as if she’d clamped her hand and a hundred blankets over the light of her emotions. He remained patient, reminding himself of her seclusion, her age, her upbringing, and it was easier. When she reached out and pulled him closer by the hair one day he knew that, despite her occasional coolness, she felt him keenly.
    He’d never entered her room, allowing her the privacy he felt was necessary to stay with him and still have a place to run to if she spooked. It surprised him when she pulled him in of her own accord as he wished her goodnight and closed the door.
    “Valeria?” he asked, unable to see in the darkened room.
    He heard her swallow. “I wanted you to see…promise not to tease?”
    “Cross my heart,” he said, perplexed as to why she would be worried.
    She turned up a lamp to illuminate the room. Mache stared.
    The rest of the ship was immaculately neat and organized. Everything in its place, everything kept to its cubby. Her lab was full, yes, but with an inherent organization.
    Valeria’s room was smaller than the one he’d been staying in. It was still roomy enough. However, it was filled, hilly nilly, with thousands of trinkets, statues, balls of various types of wire and small glass figurines in odd shapes. It was completely in disarray. Mache smelled no hint it was dirty , only chaotic.
    “A reflection of the genius mind?” he asked.
    She hit his shoulder, pouting. “I told you not to make fun!”
    “Sorry,” he said, holding up his hands. “Sorry, okay, that’s all. Actually I think it’s lovely. Proves you’re human like the rest of us.”
    “You were worried?” She asked in true affront.
    Mache took her hands, kissing both before pressing his lips to the tip of her nose. “Of course not. I’m just saying how nice it is to see a space of your own.”
    “I can clean up if you want to stay,” she stuttered.
    “Don’t be silly,” he said, and took her